What someone with insomnia thinks about at 3 in the morning:
I have this overwhelming need to write a conversation to myself.
Unfortunately, I have this underwhelming desire to expend that much energy.
My cat is presently licking his butt. Not that I want to lick anywhere near that part of my anatomy, I just want that kind of chill-out-ability and dexterity again.
If nothing else, I want that look…the one a human gets from a cat when he tells his unwilling feline to, “Sit.”
Yes, I want to have that perfect, “What?” look–the ability to express “Go to hell/Zen/You are unworthy” all at the same time and in equal amounts of infuriating charm.
I’m going back to bed now. The dogs miss their warming pad.